


City of Stars

by zxc_keito



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, History, La La Land AU, Memory, winterrw2017
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zxc_keito/pseuds/zxc_keito
Summary: It had been twelve years since she disappeared without telling him where she was going, and why, and now she's asking if he still remembers her?Of course he fucking remembers her. She’s Petra Ral, the woman of his boyish fantasies whom he hadn’t seen since they were seventeen. What’s she doing here, in Soho, spilling beer all over herself and stammering over her words?She used to be so self-assured, dreaming of West End lights; he used to be friendlier to strangers. Things change...but there are some things that don't.





	

They must’ve been staring at each other for a long time because Hannes was clearing his throat like something had blocked his oesophagus. “Is this man bothering you, Petra?” he asked, glaring daggers at the raven-haired figure sitting across the counter.

Petra swallowed the lump in her throat, nervously redirecting her gaze to her boss. “Everything’s fine, Hannes,” she replied with her usual beam. “Just dumbstruck at how small the world is.” She snuck back a glance at the man, whose gaze was still transfixed on her. “But everything’s fine. I’m still getting used to the ropes.”

Hannes gave a conceding hum, turning away only when Petra frowned subtly at his persisting presence.

She faced him again. “It’s you,” she said, almost breathlessly. “Levi. I never thought I’d see you again.”

He shifted in his seat, finally breaking his gaze. “I’ll have a pint,” he replied, voice raspy.

Petra grabbed an empty glass and began to fill it up. She stared intently at him. He’d definitely grown from the small, skinny boy in her adolescence. She could see how toned his arms were from where they began on his rolled-up sleeves, and his clean-shaven undercut… Puberty really did do wonders to people, and right now, looking at him and remembering how he’d been almost twelve years ago… it was as if puberty took a chisel and sculpted a completely new person.

But his eyes were the same. That was how she recognised him, striding through the doors of The Cambridge with a suit jacket in one hand and piercing, silver eyes scanning the room. Until they landed on her.

It was like being sucker-punched in the gut when their eyes locked. She saw how his had marginally widened at the sight of her and some part of her hoped that it was for recognition at the very least.

And when he sat down, right there, right in front of her, she ̶

“Shit!” Petra cursed, jolting out of her reverie. She’d gotten the beer all over her hands, her apron. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I’ll get you another glass.”

Levi was more curious than shocked to hear such profanities coming from her mouth. Not once had he ever heard her swear when they were teenagers, except to make those stupidly childish promises about marriage and shit like that. How she’d be in Hollywood and he’d be making music for the masses, and after all is said and done, they’d get a house in Belgravia, marry, have children…

Petra…of course he remembered Petra Ral. Not a day had passed in all 6 years of his secondary education when he didn’t dream of Petra Ral in one way or another. She was his best friend, or formerly. He remembered music lessons, maths lessons, Macbeth and Gatsby, she was the top student in their year. Always unreachable, except, of course in dreams.

And then she disappeared. In their final year of school, he’d been accepted into Cambridge to read History, and she had vanished. No-one knew where she had gone. Slowly, worry had turned into resentment, and she had turned into a memory.

“I’m so sorry, Levi, I didn’t know where my mind was.”

He glanced at the glass she eventually placed in front of him, and then up at her, searching for answers. Why was she here? Where had she been? What happened to her? Why didn’t she tell him?

“Do you…” she paused, gulping at the intensity of his gaze. Sighing, she resorted to looking down at her hands. “Do you remember me?”

Yes, he wanted to say. You haven’t aged a day. She still had her reddish shoulder-length tresses, the dimple on her left cheek, and her sunset-coloured eyes. Any by the looks of it, twelve years had finally done the trick – he’d overtaken her in height. 

He took one sip of the beer he’d ordered.

Seeing her again…of all people, of all times, of all places. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

He set the glass down, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Standing up, he fished in his pockets for a few heartbeat moments before placing a few coins on the wooden table. The sound seemed to echo around the moderately busy pub, and its resoluteness resounded in his aching chest.

Petra’s eyes pleaded his as he slid his arms into his suit jacket, adjusting the lapels accordingly.

“No,” he replied hoarsely. “I’m afraid I don’t.”


End file.
